


puppet strings

by starklystar



Series: leave the war at the doorstep [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Hurt Tony Stark, Knives, M/M, Mind Control, Self-Sacrificing Self-Harm, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23357533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starklystar/pseuds/starklystar
Summary: The order is as simple as the spell: kill him.-x-OR: the one where Tony is mind controlled and decides to cut the wire.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: leave the war at the doorstep [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654537
Comments: 5
Kudos: 386





	puppet strings

**Author's Note:**

> an anon prompted me on tumblr: "it's nothing personal" and this sort of spiralled from there.

The order is as simple as the spell: _kill him_.

Tony Stark is the heart of the Avengers, and Steve Rogers is Tony Stark's heart. So what better way to end the Avengers than to use one to take both down?

The hand holding the knife trembles. "I refuse," Tony grits out, fighting with all his strength, trying to use the knife against Amora, but she only smiles wider, the Mind Stone in her hand flaring bright.

"It isn't personal," she soothes, using her other hand to run through Tony's hair in a parody of gentleness, "and it won't take long."

Magic flares between her fingertips, and Tony's eyes roll back.

* * *

"Morning, sweetheart," Steve greets as Tony clunks into the kitchen with his armor on. "I thought you were supposed to be in Japan another day."

Tony's heart clenches when Steve turns around from the fridge, a bright smile on his face as he turns to Tony.

Steve presses a kiss on the metal of the helmet, "I missed you. Let me kiss you properly."

Amora never told Tony he couldn't kiss Steve, so Tony lets the nanobots peel back, the helmet receeding off his head. Steve's smile turns brighter. With the armor on, Tony is just about Steve's height, and Steve comes even closer, cupping Tony's cheeks with both his hands and giving him a long, lingering kiss.

_Kill him_ , the spell reminds, commands, forces.

Tony's hands shake as he takes Amora's knife out of his armor, its tip laced with poison and death.

"Tony, what's wrong?" Steve frowns, stepping back. "Are you _crying_?"

Tony shakes his head, trying to get away from Steve, but his feet plant him firmly on the ground, and Steve is coming closer again, his callused fingers coming back to cup Tony's cheeks and wipe the tears gently away.

From this angle, it's easy. Tony can slit Steve's neck, or drive the knife into Steve's side - between the fourth and fifth ribs, through his lung and heart - or he can flick the knife across the Steve's femoral artery. It's easy. Tony knows all of Steve, he won't even have to look to know where to cut.

"FRIDAY, override armor: Captain Handsome 0-4-0-7-1-9-1-8."

Nothing happens. With a growing dread, Tony realises that he's deactived FRIDAY and deleted the override codes. Steve has no way to stop Tony, not in this armor that was designed to withstand a supersoldier.

He silently begs Steve to _go_ , to run and hide and find help, but Tony knows that it's useless: Steve has never been one to flee from a fight, and he would never abandon Tony like this.

_Kill him_ , the spell grows impatient.

"Tony, whatever it is, we'll figure it out."

Steve sounds so, so concerned and Tony - Tony has no choice.

He hears himself sob, feels himself push Steve away with all the power in the armor, until Steve's back slams against the reinforced steel of the kitchen counter, and Steve groans.

Realisation flickers in Steve's eyes, but it's too late. The spell is growing stronger, Tony's mind weary from holding it back for so long, and Tony advances, his legs heavy and unsteady, knife clenched tightly in his gauntlet.

Steve has no armor, no shield. He had no reason to suspect that he'd be attacked by his _husband_ in their own home. The only defense he has is his bare arms, and he holds them out to try delay Tony.

"Hey, sweetheart? Can you hear me? Fight it. Whatever it is, I know you're strong enough to win. You are my genius, badass, amazing husband, I trust you. You can do this."

Never once does Steve's eyes stray down to the blade in Tony's hand. His gaze is fixed unflinchingly into Tony's eyes, his panic mingling with pure faith. But no matter how hard Tony tries, he can't stop. He can't.

_And when you finish, bring me his ring for proof_ , Amora's voice hisses in his mind, and Tony wants to tear himself apart, to do anything and everything to stop this, because Steve is his heart and his soul and he doesn't want this, he feels sick and rotten and dirty and -

The spell roars in anger, and Tony feels his repulsors launching him forward, his arms trapping Steve against the unbreakable kitchen wall, and Steve's eyes are wide but still so, so full of trust -

And the knife is right above Steve's neck, brushing against skin with every breath Steve takes.

"Fight it, Tony, _fight it_. You are stronger than anything in all the universes. Tony. Darling. That's it, _fight_."

Tony's entire body trembles, and he's gasping with the effort, but he can't let go of the knife, and the spell is surging again, flaring bright and unstoppable and it demands _blood_.

_Kill_ , it roars so loudly in Tony's mind that his vision blacks out, and suddenly Tony knows, with a damning clarity, he knows how to cut the wire -

The knife is moving, and Tony does the only thing that will save Steve.

It's selfish and selfless at the same time and Tony's anguish is enough to bend the spell, to change the course of the knife -

Blood splatters against Steve's chin.

Tony slumps against him, and the knife drops to the floor, and Tony smiles.

It hurts, but it’s worth it. For Steve’s life, _anything_ is worth it.

"No, no, no," Steve pleads, cradling the back of Tony's head and kneeling to lay Tony on the floor, resting Tony's head in his lap. " _Stay with me_ , you idiot."

Frantically, he presses his hand against the gaping slit on Tony's throat, blood leaking between his fingers as Tony gasps.

"I'm sorry," Tony whispers, bringing one hand to rest on top of Steve's, the blood slippery and spilling out, and Tony knows the only reason the spell is fading is because he's fading too. At the edge of Tony's mind, beyond the chaos of Steve calling for help, Tony remembers he's got something important to say.

Tugging at Steve's hand to get his attention, Tony lets the words spill out weakly, "Steve. Steve? I love you. I'm sorry. It's not your fault."

"Stop it," Steve shakes his head desperately, unable to hide the terror and horror and dread, "it's not your fault either. Bruce is going to be here any second, you'll see, and by the time you're patched up we'll have punched whoever did this to you."

Tony feels his eyes slip close. He doesn't want them to, he wants to keep seeing Steve for as long as he can, but he can't find the strength to. That's okay, though. Because Steve is alive, Tony didn't mess that up.

"Amora," Tony manages. Steve won't have to waste time if he knows. Tony wishes he could kiss Steve one more time, wishes he could tell Steve about that sushi place he went to three days ago, wishes he could stay and never leave and keep those tears away from Steve's voice. He wishes for so many things, and it's all he can do to fight the growing darkness to say one last thing to Steve, the most important thing. "Best - best part of me. Can't lose you."

"Tony, don't you fucking dare, I love you, _please_ , stay, just one more minute - " Steve trembles as he presses down tighter against the blood flowing out of Tony. His pants are drenched in dark red and the wetness of them sticks to Steve's skin, and he can feel Tony's pulse fading and, "I'll be alright," he lies because he doesn't want Tony to worry forever, and then he promises even as his heart breaks, “I love you so much."

Tony leans into Steve’s touch, one last time, and Steve bends to press a kiss against his temple. "You can rest, now, darling. I’ll be alright. I love you.”

* * *

Bruce finds them like that thirty seconds later, rushing into the kitchen with two bots dragging a cryochamber in tow.

"Steve, we've got to get him in there," he gently pries Tony out of Steve's unwilling hands, sealing the cryochamber to buy some precious time.

Tony’s blood is red, _red_ against the white kitchen tiles, and Steve has to force himself to look away, to stand and watch as Bruce calibrates the temperature of the chamber. 

Inside it, face pale and chest barely moving, Tony lets out one last puff of breath, fogging up the glass and freezing against it.

With shaky fingers, Steve strokes a little circle over it, and flinches when his still-bloody hands smear a line of red over the glass. He stumbles back.

"Bruce will get him to the Cradle," Natasha murmurs, placing a steadying hand on Steve's shoulder. He didn't realise that she was here, too, but he's grateful for it because he feels lost, feels like he's about to crumble.

"Amora," Steve gasps out, the name flashing in his thoughts, and the surge of anger that follows is enough to clear out some of his daze.

"Thor and the others are on it," Natasha gently rubs his back, guiding him slowly away from Tony's blood and out of the kitchen, "let's get you cleaned up, and we can check on Tony."

Steve holds onto her like a lifeline.

* * *

When Tony blinks awake, groggy and tired, the first thing he sees is Steve's bowed head, and his hands grasping tightly onto Tony's.

His lips are murmuring something so soft Tony can't hear above the slight throbbing in his head, but it doesn't matter because Steve is alive and Tony can't feel any of the witch's claws in his mind.

The press of Steve's ring against Tony's palm is grounding, and it gives Tony the strength to squeeze back at Steve's hand.

Steve's head snaps up instantly, eyes darting frantically around until they land on Tony's. "Thank god," he breathes out shakily, "thank you. God," he brings Tony's hand up and presses a long, lingering kiss against the inside of Tony's wrist, lips brushing against the pulse beating steadily there, "I hate you."

"I love you, too," Tony croaks. With his free hand, he pokes at the skin of his neck, smooth thanks to the Cradle.

"Don't you ever do that again," Steve grows, unable to quite keep the tremble out of his voice, "you find another way, you hear me?"

"I'll try."

It's a promise they both know won't last, not with their lives and the madness the universes insist on throwing against them. They'll fight about it, later, and Tony will wake up in the middle of the night to find Steve hunched over the side of the bed, the nightmares too real and the death too close.

That's later, though. For now, Steve takes the glass of ice chips from the table and presses one against Tony's lips, smiling at the sigh of contentment Tony gives in return.

"I love you," Steve says, so very grateful he still has the chance to tell Tony, "you're an idiot and I love you so, so much."

When Steve feeds him another ice chip, Tony presses a kiss against his fingertips, lips curling up into a smile.

"I know."

**Author's Note:**

> prompt me at starklysteve.tumblr.com :)


End file.
